silent surburban girl releasing her voice, not yet knowing what all she wants to say about her life and the things that make it spin. do you have to be 18 to be here? you'll know when i know.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

...and now, back to our story

This post comes to you from under my last glimmer of hope (because I didn't wake up to the news that scientists had perfected surgical back replacement techniques, despite my hours of prayer) and the rubble of sweet exhaustion (what with the lengthy praying and all). I was finally able to get in to see a doctor this morning about my back, and the pills up there - a cocktail of Darvocet (for the pain, gah! the pain!), Relafen (for swelling...with a potential side effect of bleeding and stroke, yippee!), and Robaxin (for relaxing muscles tighter than my Mom's pursed lips when she's trying not to make disapproving remarks about me) - are now coursing through my system, and already I feel woozy and would cluck like a chicken if you told me to.

(p.s. - While my meds are perhaps not as intense as some have enjoyed recently, I'm happy to note that acquiring them didn't involve the cutting into of any body parts, even though I am not completely convinced there's not a giant, teeth-gnashing tumor festering in my lumbar region, ready to burst out like William Wallace, screaming for freedom. I'm also pleased that acquiring them didn't involve complicated shaving rituals because honestly, in my present state, I can't even begin to bend in ways necessary for such tactics.)

Anyway, I saw the doctor today, and I felt a little weenie upon entering the building because, boo hoo, my back hurts, but apparently the world is filled with really sick, really contagious people, so now, of course, I should prepare to actually get sick because wow, the waiting room was littered with all manner of those people, coughing and snuffling and filling the air with their evil. I very nearly took one of the surgical masks the staff provides patients, the ones they keep in a cookie jar at reception marked with the label "If you have a cough, kindly wear a mask for the benefit of our other patients" and yet NO ONE EVER DOES! Why? Because you're afraid of scaring off people? Have we learned nothing from I Am Legend (other than yawn...) or 28 Days Later? I for one do not look forward to a future where bad CGI mutants roam the cities, and if you'd just dip into the cookie jar, you'd do us all a favor.

Thankfully, I was called back to an exam room quickly, and didn't even have to wait more than 20 minutes for the doctor to come see me (have I ever told you about the time I waited, naked and covered only by a paper sheet, for nearly two hours to see my doctor once?!). The examination itself was pretty cut and dry. Are you constipated? No. (I can tell you people about my vibrator purchasing habits - too many times to link them all here - but just typing that last sentence made me want to apologize to all of you). Are you bleeding when you pee? No. (again, I feel like saying I'm sorry). Are you having your period right now? For a change, no. (sigh...). Then he had me stand up, turn around, and position myself in front of him. Let's just say that I've only stood in front of three men and bent over, and the last one I married, but today I added a fourth to the list.

Grabbing hold of the exam table in front of me for leverage (again, something I've only done with three other men...), I kept waiting for the Braveheart tumor to burst through my skin and eat the good doctor alive as all his poking and prodding (three men...) tempted fate. Instead I listened to him hem and haw and ask if it hurt here? How about there? Way up here? What about now? My tears, gently dropping and flowering out upon the tissue paper-covered exam table, served as my answer.

"Could be kidney stones," he said. "You're going to need to pee for me."

Awesome.

Thank goodness for the three gallons of water I'd consumed between 10 p.m. and 10 a.m. That helped. You know what didn't help? The lab tech opening up the pee cubby while I was attempting to provide my sample! She totally scared the crap out of me (not really)(I mean not figuratively. She did scare me, though) and suddenly I felt like I was under a lot of pressure to deliver, and that pressure caused me to spill the bulk of my sample (thankfully in the toilet bowl)(again, I'm feeling the need for apologies...). No worries though. I was on F thanks to all the water I'd poured down my gullet.

The diagnosis? No kidney stones. Also? A commendation on being an excellent pee'er (peeer?). That alone was worth the doctor's visit. Oh, who am I kidding? No it wasn't. The drugs were worth the doctor's visit, and yeah! He delivered.

So anyway...I'm sorry if this post makes no sense. I'm sorry for all the parenthetical remarks. I'm not sorry for all the times I've written about vibrators. I took my first round of pills an hour ago and the sweet light of relief is shining on my horizon as I type, so I'm going to go attempt to lay down and relax for the first time in five days. Do with me what you will at this point. I'll be back - hopefully with a healthier back of my own - later.

48 Comments:

I always tell people the best thing about c-sections is the hopped up dope they send you home with. I never know if I am high from the new baby or sweet score, but it is definitely a good feeling. Just kidding, it's totally the kid.Hope your back gets to feeling better.

And listen, I'm a major user of the parenthetical remark, meself; I just like to come around here to see the Master (I feel like I should call you the Mistress, but no, that doesn't seem right, either. . .) work her craft. . .

And heck, you're a lot more, um, discreet than a lot of the women who blog about their vibrators. So no worries. Just sayin'. . .

So, I took Darvocet when my boys were made girls (boys being wedding-tackle), and, uh, it didn't do much. Is it helping you? I kind of lump Davocet in the placebo group now. I hope it's helping you, though, maybe I'm just immune...

after the first baby, i discovered why celebrity types get all pill poppin' and such. add one or two Miller Lites (not officially endorsed, just saying) and dear love of unicorns and rainbows and i love everybody: yes, sweet relief.

Oh thank heaven! I'm so glad you have some relief. I need some of what you got, though. I think I slipped a hemorrhage (hey! just learned how to spell hemmorhage) yesterday trying to hold my perpetually and forcefully screaming daughter while waiting for what seemed like forever for flu shots. I'm too old for this shit!

But enough about me. Is it wrong to say I enjoyed your post? What with you in pain and all. Sorry for what you've been through, but as usual, the recount is amazing.

I hope your feeling better soon, it sounds all kinds of painful.If it makes you feel any better, when I was in the emergency room after I was in a car accident I totally mooned the entire ER. Talk about embarrassing.

Having had 3 c-sections and a kidney stone, I can say that I know the sweet relief pain medication can bring. Let someone else dispense the meds though. If you're like me I couldn't remember when I'd last had medication!

Lust, and stuff.Kisses to make you back all better.I think the term you were looking for is pee-er. The hyphen/dash makes all the difference. You are totally forgiven because you were/are hopped up on good drugs.

Wow - you got quite a pile o' meds there! I hope they help and you return to the land of the living and flexible very soon. (Though do we 41-yr-olds ever return to full flexibility? Ah, to be 21 again!)

I probably shouldn't even tell you this, but my friend's cousin went to the doctor with back pain. Turned out she had a tumor at the base of her spine and within 6 weeks she was dead. Seriously. So going to the doctor was a good idea even without the sweet, sweet drugs.

I used to work in hospice and the one thing I know for sure is that Darvocet SUCKS! There are wwwaaaayyyy better pain relievers. The doctors I worked with used to laugh at the few MDs that still prescribed it - it's JUNK go get yourself some percocet or vicodin if you really want to help your pain.

Back pain? Sorry to hear about this. You know, I don't think zombies have any back pain. Neither do vampires, for that matter. If you get a chance to choose, I'd go with the vampire. They're prettier and some of them have super powers. On another note, would you be so kind as to send me your email address? I'm planning on spamming you later in a bulk email about Blog The Rockies. Don't you dare say you're too shy in real life to attend. Even if you are, you can still sit in the corner and not talk to anyone. I wouldn't recognize your face, but I would recognize your cleavage. Wear something low-cut. (Sorry that I mentioned your cleavage in the first comment I've left for you in ages. I've been on a internet fast until today and I'm sort of out of control and rusty.) Email me at jenboglass@yahoo.com. Feel free to make a comment about my cleavage too if you'd like.

Ugh, I feel for you! I have a nasty torn lumbar disc that has caused a 2+ year runaround of doctor appointments, surgery, physical therapy, and lots and lots of pills. The drugs are not nearly as fun when you need them that badly!Let me know if you ever want to compare relief techniques (I'm currently loving ice, heat, massage, and a pain blend of essential oils on top of my narcs.) GOOD TIMES :(I hope you feel better soon!